


we met in a café (i may have stared at your ass)

by Dusty_Skyes



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Cafe AU, M/M, Pure and utter crack, much tamer than usual, satt gets a warning just because it's satt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 00:58:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13065807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty_Skyes/pseuds/Dusty_Skyes
Summary: “So, how big do you think his dick is?”





	we met in a café (i may have stared at your ass)

**Author's Note:**

> This is 100% crack. I have no justification. Enjoy.

     “So, how big do you think his dick is?”

     The question catches Bryce completely by surprise and he jerks, coughing roughly as he chokes on his drink. “Excuse me, _what_?”

     Satt rolls his eyes and glances back down at the open compact mirror he’s holding, obviously using it to ogle some poor soul sitting behind him. “I said, ‘How big do you think his dick is?’”

     “ _Who_?”

     Another harsh roll of the eyes and Bryce is pretty sure that if they weren’t firmly attached to Satt’s skull, his eyes would be on the floor from the force of the roll. “Him. The brunet dude with the beard sharp enough to cut, muscles for days, and the ‘X’-shaped scar over one eye.”

     Oh. Him. Bryce glances over at him and immediately looks away before their eyes can lock. The poor man can obviously tell he’s being watched, but can’t seem to find where the gaze is coming from as he goes back to nursing whatever it is he’s drinking. Bryce takes a sip of his peppermint latte. So he likes them, so what. They’re good and it’s December anyway. This is about as far as he’s willing to go into _The Holiday Spirit_ , so Satt better appreciate it.

     (Satt, on the other hand, is wearing a rather garish Christmas sweater with reindeer dancing across it and little red Santas on the sleeves. The sight of it hurts Bryce’s eyes but it’s not like he can demand for the brunet to remove the offending item. Mainly because he knows full well that Satt actually _will_ strip, and he really does _not_ want to deal with that in the least. That man does not know the meaning of the word ‘shame’. But then again, Satt _does_ have a maid outfit and he wears it fairly often, too.)

     Bryce blinks and takes another sip of his drink, watching quietly as Satt angles the compact mirror to get a better look at the scarred man. “He’s fucking good lookin’. Could probably lift me and have his way with me against a wall. And I’d be more than okay with that.”

     “Right,” Bryce mutters, slightly uncomfortable. “I thought we were here because you actually had something important to talk to me about.”

     The look Satt gives him is a mixture of hurt and some form of a scathing glare. “Exc~use me? Are you telling me that ogling good looking men in a compact mirror and wondering if the size of their dick matches the size of their muscles _isn’t_ important? Because if you are, then clearly your priorities are pretty fucked up.”

     “ _My_ priorities?” Bryce echoes and he’s pretty sure his eyebrows have disappeared into his hairline. “ _My priorities_ are the messed up ones? Have you even _looked_ into a mirror lately?”

     “Ha ha, bitch.” Satt rolls his eyes and takes a long slow sip of the coffee he’s been nursing for the past hour and a half. It’s probably long since gone cold. Bryce, on the other hand, has gone through three of his peppermint lattes and is now feeling the burn of the caffeine in his chest (and somewhat regretting it, too).

     For a long moment there’s silence as Satt stares intently at the man, making him glance quickly around once more. Bryce sighs. “I can’t believe you,” he mutters. “Can’t you see you’re making him uneasy?”

     “Oh, I see that all right, but I don’t give a fuck. It’s not like I’m gonna _actually_ get up, tell him he’s hot, and ask for a number. I don’t even know if he’s bi or pan or poly or even if he’s gay or not.” Satt shrugs and reaches for his cup, freezing half-way through the motion when a man steps into the café. “Oh, holy _fuck_.”

     Bryce glances at the newcomer and immediately looks away, cheeks burning red. He’s really good looking and the blond never actually thought they’d find someone taller, but the man looks to be two or so inches taller than them. “Wow,” he manages.

     Satt grins widely. “He’s a tall motherfucker.”

     “Hey, bitch!” the man calls, making a direct beeline straight to the scarred man. “The fuck you doing here? I though you weren’t instate anymore.”

     The scarred man sighs, rolling his eyes in exasperation, and Bryce suddenly feels like he isn’t the only one dealing with annoying friends. “Waiting for your bitch ass. I know you come here often for coffee, Tyler.”

     Tyler snorts and flips him off. “Shut the fuck up, Luke. It’s not like your coffee intake is any better than mine.” He saunters up to the counter and begins scanning the menu, looking very much like he knows exactly what he wants, then orders the second the cashier asks him what he would like. Bryce, having worked in retail himself for a few years (and having a rather personal hatred for customers in general), can definitely appreciate that.

     Satt’s smile is five hundred percent more evil than his own. “So,” he murmurs, tilting the mirror to keep Tyler in view, “Tyler and Luke, huh? Good names for good looking people.”

     “Oh my gosh, Satt. Please don’t get arrested for stalking. I will not bail your butt out of jail.”

     “I do _not_ have a butt, Bryce. I have a _booty_. And a sexy one at that.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and giggles, covering his mouth with a hand as he snickers and Bryce doesn’t even stop himself from rolling his eyes.

     “You’re an actual idiot, Satt, I swear.”

     His friend looks incredibly hurt, but Bryce knows full well that he’s faking his hurt. “Me?” the brunet gasps, tilting his head back and pressing a hand to his chest. “You _wound_ me, Bryce.”

     “Don’t be so dramatic, Satt.”

     “I’m always dramatic, Bryce. That’s what I do. In fact, my middle name _is_ dramatic.”

     Bryce pauses for a second and then snickers. “I thought your middle name was Overdramatic™.”

     Satt rears back against the back of the booth and gasps so dramatically that Bryce almost, _almost_ believes it genuine. “You’re so _cruel_ to me, Brycie.” He sniffs daintily and the blond groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

     “Remind me why I’m friends with you again?” Bryce gets another extremely overdramatic noise of horror and Satt snatches up his coffee and leaps to his feet, stalking across the café like a particularly wounded bull and dropping into the seat beside Luke.

     Luke purses his lips and gives a quick glance towards Tyler, who is still waiting for his drink at the counter. “ _Excuse_ me?”

     The smile Satt gives him is practically angelic. “My best friend is being mean to me and I need a new one. Feel like being up to the challenge, handsome?”

     Bryce groans, drops his head to the table with a thud, and wonders if he was lucky enough to remember to bring aspirin with him today. He has no idea why he’s friends with Satt.

     Probably for the entertainment value.

     “Handsome?” Luke parrots, brows rising slowly. Satt beams at him and Bryce can see that the bearded man doesn’t believe his smile in the least. It warms his soul, honestly. With a heavy sigh, Bryce gets to his feet and stalks over just as Tyler returns to the table.

     “Oh my gosh, Satt,” he mutters, hauling the brunet up by his arm. “I’m so sorry about him. He was raised in a cave.”

     Tyler snorts loudly and takes a swig of his drink, dropping down into the seat across from Luke. “I like you. Got an actual fucking sense of humor.”

     Luke coughs. “So you two wouldn’t happen to know who was staring at me the entire time I was here?”

     Bryce chokes on his drink and begins laughing loudly. Satt immediately splutters, practically lunging forward in an attempt to slam his hands over the blond’s mouth. “That would be Satt admiring at your muscles in a compact mirror,” Bryce cheerfully informs them, dodging Satt’s attempts to shut him up.

     “Bryce motherfucking McQuaid!” Satt shrieks. “You son of a bitch!” He stumbles, almost falling over the table, and slaps the blond upside the head in an attempt to cover his mouth. “How dare you rat me out like that.” The brunet sniffs daintily, looking very much like he’s been severely insulted, and Bryce glances at the other two men. Luke has a hand over his mouth and he’s trying desperately to not laugh. Tyler, on the other hand, isn’t trying to hide his amusement. He’s laughing hard enough to shake the table, deep rumbles that warm the air.

     “Well someone has to rat you out. You know, deflate your ego a little bit.”

     Satt gasps and staggers back, crumbling into the seat like he’s fainting, and flings a hand over his face. “Oh. Oh. OH. _OH!_ ”

     The blond sighs and shakes his head. “And _this,_ ”--he gestures to the half-collapsed man--“this is why he’s known as Overdramatic™. With the ‘Trademark’, too, because he’s just that level of drama.”

     “Of course I’m that level of drama, Brycie. It’s natural. Just like my charm.”

     “What charm?” Bryce asks, laughing as he ducks a slap. “We should probably leave before we actually cause damage. Or get thrown out. Again.”

     He laughs when Satt glares at him and spits, “That was _not_ my fault.”

     Bryce stares at him for a long moment, neither moving nor saying a word. “Right. Sure. If that’s what lets you sleep at night.”

     Luke gets up and tosses his empty cup in the trash. “Right,” he says, still snickering. “Join us for lunch? My treat.”

     Tyler perks up immediately. “Food?”

     “No. Not you. You’re 6’5” and capable of eating an entire pizza by yourself. You pay for your own shit.” Luke grins and bows almost exaggeratively at them. “Two pretty men, however, are a different story.”

     Bryce scowls just the slightest. “I’m flattered, but I also want to punch you in the face.”

     Tyler snorts as he strides past, pulling the door open with incredible ease. “Yeah, Luke does that a lot. You get used to it. Feel free to punch him, by the way. That's what I do, anyway.”

     Judging by the dark look Luke gives him, Bryce would say Tyler does it far more often than the scarred man would actually like. "Right," Luke says gruffly, "that just killed any chance you had of me actually buying you food." Bryce laughs, covering his mouth with a hand as he does so, and follows Luke through the door and out into the cold wind beyond.

(Suddenly he's not hating the Holiday Season nearly as much as he usually does.)


End file.
